Feeding The Flames
by danythedragon
Summary: Effie gives in to temptation on the morning of the Victory Tour. [SUMMARY TO CHANGE EVENTUALLY! - my mind is failing right now.] This story will follow the rest of the Tour and possibly the rest of Catching Fire, if people want it. Please read and let me know. Rated for suggestiveness/potential future chapters. Disclaimer - ...I'll never be Suzanne Collins. I tried, okay?


_**A/N: Consider this a "pilot chapter" of a new little multi-chap. Let me know if you want me to continue. :) I could do with name suggestions too, if you guys don't mind. It's currently named for a rewrite I had planned of Catching Fire. This might turn in to that, I guess. It just needed a name! :P If you guys think the name is okay, then that's cool.**_

_**I'm not writing a summary yet, cause I can't think of one. :/ Basically, Effie gives in to temptation on the morning of the Victory Tour, and this story will cover the rest of the tour and possibly the rest of Catching Fire as well. (?) I'll decide that as I get further in, if enough people want it. :) Enjoy?**_

_**-Ellie. **_

* * *

The train pulls in to the shabby, poor excuse for a train station in District 12. I sigh as I rise out of my seat and head towards the door; the stylists and their teams following suit. I scowl a little as I step out onto the uneven platform, but I pull it back. It would not be ladylike to be caught scowling, no matter how unfortunate the current situation. It's not that I dislike the children or their District. It's the thought of working with their infuriating mentor for more months in the year than I previously had to. I mean; the man has no sense of manners or decency or properness or _anything_! The worst thing about him is the fact that he just _had_ to go and be actually attractive! Of all the Victors I could work with, I get placed with, and stuck with the worst of them all. Haymitch Abernathy - the cocky, arrogant mess of a man, who also happens to be one of the cleverest of all the Victors. He learned how to irritate me within the first year, and he uses his knowledge to his full advantage. And now, just because we finally somehow got a Victor – two Victors – I have to spend heaven knows how long stuck on a train with the insufferable fool for the Victory Tour!

We trek through the snowy District, heading towards the Victors Village. Thick blankets of white cover the paths, even though it's clearly been shoveled at least once. The snow falls heavily, billowing around us almost like a fluffy, white cloud – a _cold_, fluffy, white cloud. I realize that heels probably were not the best choice for today, but no matter. I am half way through the District, and I am damn well not going to stop and change my shoes now. I shall soldier on, as a proper lady should. I roll my eyes as I hear the prep teams complaining behind me. Portia and I share a glance. I can tell she's as fed up as I am. As we enter the Village, I stop, turning around to face them, their complaining grating on my last nerve.

"Enough of this absolute nonsense! I will not hear another word of your complaining! You knew it would be cold, and you knew that we would have to walk through the snow. You should have prepared and dressed accordingly." I ignore my own hypocrisy, hoping none of them have drawn their attention to my completely unsuitable 5-inch heels. They don't seem to notice, so I press on. "We are Capitol citizens, ladies and gentlemen. We are expected to maintain a certain amount of decorum, and we shall behave as such! Now quit your insufferable complaining, for goodness sake! Are we clear!?"

I suppress a smile at the faces of the now-scolded prep teams, and I see Portia smirking out of the corner of my eye. I give them a wide grin of satisfaction and clap my gloved-hands together. "Good! Now, we have a schedule to uphold, ladies and gentlemen! Off you go!" I usher them away and they head, shivering and mumbling, to their respective Victor. The stylists follow their teams, leaving me standing in the street alone. I get the best job of them all! It is my solitary duty to go and rouse the one and only Haymitch Abernathy!

"Right. Come on, Effie! You can do this!" I mutter to myself as I approach his front door. "You've handled him before. You are a lady of the Capitol, and you are in charge here. Everyone on this team answers to you. They listen to you." _Except Haymitch, _a little voice in the back of my mind adds, and I sigh. "Right, Effie. Get in there, girl!" I urge myself on as I reach for the doorknob, taking in a deep breath in preparation.

I walk into his house fully prepared for the smell. I'm pleasantly surprised when, instead of the foul stench of the disgusting man, I am met with a slightly crisp, fresh breeze. I suppose one of the children must have come around and opened a window. The darlings. I make a mental note to thank them later.

"Haymitch?" I yell, not wanting to have to search for him. We have a schedule to keep to, and I wish every year for him to consider that fact just once, but alas, yet again I am disappointed. "Haymitch? Where are you?"

Sighing, I venture through the downstairs of the house in search of him. It's a little chilly in the kitchen from the open window, so I begrudgingly close it. Hopefully, the breeze will have aired out his house long enough for me to get him ready and make a hasty exit. I glance around in disdain at the utter atrocity that he calls his home. It's disgusting – litter, dirty laundry and an assortment of other unknown artifacts cover the floor. I don't even want to know what it all is, so I figure it will be best if I find the insufferable buffoon as quickly as possible. I purse my lips as I fight my way through the mess on the floor and back to the hallway, watching my step. I freeze when I find myself about to step on a foot – his foot. My eyes widen slightly when I realize it's attached to a bare leg. He's not wearing pants. Charming. I let my eyes drift up his legs, dreading seeing the man completely naked. To my relief, he's wearing a towel around his waist, and to my utter embarrassment, I find myself a little disappointed at that. My eyes linger unintentionally on his torso. For an alcoholic of his age, he's very well toned. The stray drops of water highlight his muscles and make his tanned skin shine deliciously. I absently lick my lips before I remember who I'm actually looking at. I quickly snap my eyes up to his face, only to find him smirking at me. The blush creeps onto my cheeks automatically, and I find myself feeling utterly flustered and embarrassed. Not only have I just openly gawked at Haymitch Abernathy's naked torso, but also, the man himself caught me! I clear my throat awkwardly, avoiding eye contact with him.

"You've bathed. Lovely." I force my usual Escort-smile onto my face, but I feel it may look a little psychotic at the moment.

"Lovely, is it? Yeah. I was enjoying the peace, but then I heard you." His smirk remains on his face as he stares at me. I scoff in a very un-ladylike manner.

"You need to work on your insults, Haymitch. I do believe you're a little out of practice, _darling_." I match his smirk and meet his gaze. His expression turns smug, and I feel a little wave of panic and dread, remembering the situation just moments ago.

"Yeah. I'm a little shaken actually. Sexually harassed by a colleague this morning." I blush again, closing my eyes and wishing for the ground to swallow me up. He's laughing, so I open my eyes and glare at him. "Caught you looking, Trinket. Like what you see?" He winks and my blush deepens.

"I wasn't… You're insufferable! You think you're God's gift to women. I assure you that you are not. I was just caught off guard. I didn't expect you to be clean for once. Usually one cannot see your skin through the grime."

"Oh so you look often?" He guffaws and I fight the urge to slap him.

"No…" I sigh and bite my lip, blushing furiously. I can hardly admit to him that I have in fact looked before. I can't admit to him that I find him a little attractive. He is rather desirable, in a rugged, dangerous way. It's one of those fantasies that many Capitol ladies secretly indulge in – being swept off our feet by a wild District man. Taming a District man. I quite like that he's rough around the edges though. I don't know if I'd _want_ to tame him…

"Effie?" He interrupts my thoughts, waving a hand in front of my face.

"Mm?" I clear my throat awkwardly again, trying to find some words. "Yes?"

He watches me for a moment, a curious look on his face as well as that ever-present smirk – the one that is constantly on his face when his mission is to wind me up.

"Oh what are you staring at!?" I snap, too uncomfortable under his scrutiny. He chuckles.

"You haven't gotten any in a while, have you?" My eyes widen at his question.

"I hardly think that's any of your business!" My blush deepens.

"I'm right, aren't I? How long's it been? Weeks? Months?" I avert my gaze, so he leans in closer, grinning mischievously, "_Years_?" I bite my lip, trying not to give anything away. He laughs. "Years!? Christ, Trinket! No wonder you're so uptight!"

"Shut up, Haymitch!" I snap, desperately wanting to change the subject.

"So what's the reason? No, wait! Let me guess." He grins, staring at me for a short moment before continuing. "You're too much of a prude for a one-night stand, and no man can put up with you for a relationship." He laughs obnoxiously at his own guess. I roll my eyes and scowl at him, waiting for him to finish. I ignore the increasing speed of my heartbeat when he leans in a little and reaches up to caress my cheek lightly.

"It's a shame. I bet you're probably pretty under all that crap. You ruin it with your voice though." He leans back and laughs again. I find myself growing annoyed, but I won't give him the reaction he wants. I never know exactly _what_ reaction he wants from me. "But I'm sure a guy would have a one-night stand with you, if you weren't such a prude. You should go out or something. Find a man and get him into bed. Doesn't have to be more than sex. I don't think even I'd say no. Always been a little curious as to what you're like when you let loose a little."

"It's not like I haven't wanted to!" I blurt out and my eyes widen as soon as I realize what I've just said. He raises his eyebrows, looking a little shocked himself, but the smirk returns quickly enough. Looking down to the floor in embarrassment, I feel I should try to cover my tracks here. "It's just unprofessional. I don't have time, what with work, especially since we won. There's been so much to do. I've had no time for… personal pleasure."

"Could always mix work _with_ pleasure." I quickly look back up at him, finding a mischievous darkness in his eyes… almost lust. No, not _almost_. It _is_ lust. I gasp.

"What are you suggesting, Mr Abernathy?" I try my best to make myself sound completely appalled by the thought of sex with Haymitch, but even I'm not convinced by my voice.

"I'm suggesting, Miss Trinket, that you let loose a little. With me."

"Haymitch! That is incredibly unprofessional! The mere thought of…"

"You can't deny this tension between us. I can tell you've thought about it. I know I have. Just give in." He smiles darkly at me and takes a step closer to me. I back away slightly, but a part of me doesn't want to move away.

"I know what you're doing here." I try to make my voice serious, like a warning, but it wavers. Even I hear it, so I know he will. "I know what you're doing, and it's not going to work. You hate me. It's just a power trip to you. I won't let you use me."

"It's not about that. I could overpower you any day, sweetheart. It just…" He sighs and runs a hand through his messy, wet hair. I bite my lip, finding myself wanting to do the same. "Let me put this in a way a woman like you will understand. _It works in my favor_ to ease your frustration. If you're not so uptight and wound up, you'll be less of a bitch than usual - less of a headache. Considering I'm gonna be stuck on a damn train with you, I think it's best I help you out here. It's not like I want you for anything else, sweetheart."

"Haymitch…" My warning tone fails this time. It sounds more like a pleading sigh, than anything else. I quickly weigh out the pros and cons of this. On the plus side, it has been a while and he is, admittedly, rather sexy. On the other hand, I could be in a lot of trouble for starting this kind of thing with a District man. Surely, though, no one needs to find out about it… and he did say it is just sex – just to ease my frustration. I bite my lip, looking up at him through my lashes. I know I've made up my mind. He grins smugly when he sees the dark lust I can tell is clear in my eyes, and my heart races when his eyes darken too.

"How much time do we have here?" He murmurs, stepping closer to me. This time, I don't' back away. I quickly check my wristwatch.

"We should be good for a half hour. I allowed some time on the schedule for fle-"

He growls slightly, and suddenly his lips are hungrily moving against mine. It takes me a mere second to respond, my hands reaching up to clutch his untamed hair, desperately pulling him closer.

"You need to learn when to shut up." He growls against my lips, his mouth attacking mine with so much fire and anger and passion, I can barely keep up. A moan escapes my lips when he forcefully pushes me backwards, and I feel myself hit what I assume is the table in his hallway. Items scatter to the floor when he sweeps them away with his hand, before picking me up and perching me on the edge of the table. My legs immediately wrap around his waist, as much as my tight skirt will allow. He notices my struggle and reaches down to pull at the fastenings, unzipping it and pushing it down a little. I lift my hips to allow him to proceed, and he throws it to the floor as I wrap my legs around him properly. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a little voice is screaming at me. It's telling me, as I push his towel to the uneven wooden flooring, that I shouldn't be doing this. For some reason, the little voice wins out… briefly.

"We shouldn't do this." I manage to pant through deep breaths as his mouth skims along my jaw, but it quickly turns into a moan of pleasure when he sucks on the sensitive skin of my neck. I'm right. We shouldn't do this, but I certainly want to.

"Shut up, Trinket." He growls harshly, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine, but I have a feeling the shiver is from the excitement and anticipation as well. His anger always did have this effect on me. I think it's to do with the fiery passion that blazes in his silver eyes when he's angry, making them flash dangerously. I gasp, moaning when his teeth nip at the skin of my shoulder, him having pushed my jacket to fall on the desk and my blouse off my shoulder.

"Haymitch… please…" I breathe, and it's all he needs to pick me up off the table and carry me up the stairs.


End file.
